The Clockwise Witness
by Xyliette
Summary: Trust versus love. Plainly, an attempted reconciliation set in Season 5. Derek/Addison.
1. is there something hovering

A/N: This first part here is mostly set up but I'm aiming for three overall. Enjoy-

**_~-~-~-~-~-~  
The Clockwise Witness  
- DeVotchKa  
~-~-~-~-~-~_**

She's taking precautions this time. Avoiding certain people, trying not to be too nosy, and flying under whatever radar exists at the most gossipy piece of hospital that ever existed. It's going to be a longer trip, that can't be avoided, but she has back up on speed dial and a nicely stocked mini bar. There will be no morning flights in and evening flights out the next day. No, this is a trip and she's hoping she doesn't stumble like an idiot into Meredith's arms or Mark's bed.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Her cab driver seems to think that she has a family member in the hospital. He then proceeds to share the story about how his very own grandmother passed away at Seattle Grace and though it may seem huge the people there aren't so bad. She nods, tips him more than she normally would have and damn near breaks a heel trying to get out of the vehicle in one piece.

She doesn't look up at the massive entrance and soak it all in this time. Nope, this is business and she knows all too well exactly what the exterior architecture of this place boasts. There have been many nights spent on benches searching for the stars over the clouds, numerous days where she thought that maybe a breath of fresh air would be able to renew her strength, and countless evenings where she walked out wondering what the hell she was doing there to begin with.

She knows the outside of the building where she lost a part of herself, part of her integrity and fight.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Addison takes the stairs, liking the barely noticeable burn in her calves as she hikes upwards to claim her badge from Richard and gain instructions on the patient she has been researching for weeks. It's delicate and personal and there's no way she won't be overly involved but sometimes that's the way it goes and if she ends up crying herself into a puddle somewhere then so be it. These people, this family, they deserve the best.

"There's my star," Richard greets as she slips into his office and slides down into one of the chairs that she used to occupy frequently.

"You missed me then," Addison smirks.

"Just for your medical abilities," Richard shoots back and watches her smile spread. "It's good to have you here Addie."

"Happy to help."

"Well then," he states while rifling through his desk for the right papers, "let's get started." The pager glides across his shiny desk a few seconds later and she smiles, happy to have an old friend back. There's just something odd about wearing scrubs and not having it clipped the to drawstrings.

Her fine strokes grace the papers and then she pushes them forward with the same grin as earlier. "I have missed you too."

"That's what you get for running off," Richard chides.

"I didn't run."

"I beg to differ. You grabbed your bags, the ones that were packed since you moved out of the trailer and did the one thing you've wanted to do since you agreed to live here."

Addison purses her lips, caught in the truth. "Something like that." She clears her throat, a sure indicator of progressing the conversation. "Let's go see that patient."

"You're always welcome back Addie. Whenever you come to your senses," Richard says softly as they click and scuffle their way down the hall.

She nods and recognizes the sincerity in his voice. Coming from the land of smog and sun it's more than welcome to her ears. They may have obvious problems but most of the people here, wandering the halls half asleep, are not fake. They have too much on their plate to even attempt it.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Because this was a trip and not a short visit, she didn't go out of her way to see anyone – didn't go running down halls and offer hugs. Instead, she stood back, pretending it was another day of work and that her presence was completely normal. And they came to her. Miranda, Mark, Callie, Stevens and now (the third day) even Derek can't ignore her.

"Dr. Montgomery," he greets with an edge of something else than just a cordial obligation.

"Dr. Shepherd." Addison smiles and folds her chart shut to give him her full attention. She could keep going, make believe she's all self-important and incredibly busy, but it's Derek and there's no point.

"How's the case going?"

"It's going. We operate tomorrow." Oh, and she's terrified. Like shaky hands scared but she won't let it get in her way.

"I heard," he grins and can't help but catch something passing over face. It flashes briefly. Happy then remorseful, he's seen it before, many times.

"And I heard you live with Meredith Grey and all of her little friends, congratulations, you are officially twenty years old again."

Derek laughs because he can't help it, and she's right and he lives in a god damn frat house. "Yeah, well, we're getting there."

"I'm glad to hear that," she replies, wavering on her heels and leaning against the counter nonchalantly to keep her balance. She sights the silence coming a mile away but it's not out of place or uncomfortable. Things rarely are with Derek anymore. If you've been through what they've been through, that is.

"I'll be watching tomorrow," he says, trying to get her back on track. "Don't screw up."

"I never screw up," Addison replies instantly.

"Ah-ah, our third year. Mrs. Gunderson."

"Autopsy showed I had nothing to do with that," she tells him, wishing he could remember just one thing about their history for once. The man can hardly be bothered to pencil in his own birthday.

"That's right," he concedes, tilting his head genuinely, and letting his wavy hair topple with gravity. "There's something different about you."

"Happiness?" She shrugs her shoulders flirting, unable to stop herself.

"Maybe," Derek contemplates as she smiles – that smile he hasn't seen in so, so long. "Looks good on you."

"Glad to have your approval," Addison quips and then swears under her breath when her pager sounds. She hears him yell, "Good luck with that!" as she retreats.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

He pushes the lidless cup forward, toward her slumped posture. "Juju."

She grins weakly, letting the day roll off her shoulders (everyone is still alive after all), grabbing up the container and taking a large sip. "This is not from the hospital."

"The little store on the corner," he explains. "I was hoping maybe we could grab some dinner or something."

"You? Me? Voluntarily spend time outside of work...where people will see us and there will be no pager to save you?" she raises her eyebrows high in question.

"I have...I was hoping we could talk," Derek tells her. Ever since she's been here, it's all he can think about. If he's going to be that guy, if he's going to be a good man, it needs to be put to bed. It needs to rest.

"About anything good? Cause I've had a helluva day in that OR and if you are going to drag me out, get me drunk, and then yell I'm going to have to pass for another time," she kids, knowing she'll be dressed and in the lobby looking for him in half an hour.

There's too much history. Derek shakes his head, alternately hating and loving that she knows him so well. "No, no yelling. Drinking though, that will probably happen."

"Usually does," Addison agrees. "Let me go change. I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Okay," he says softly as she disappears.

As she sways away, tired feet floating along the glowing tile, heart thumping much faster than it should be, she realizes she doesn't have it in her to ask where Meredith is this evening and why he has time for her.

Maybe she doesn't want to know. Maybe after all this time it still hurts too much to deal with.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"You look nice," he offers, standing and giving her his arm. Both walking out of the hospital as though it is months ago and they secretly still love each other amidst all the loathing and gossip. In reality, not much has changed.

He opens her door. He opens the restaurant door. It's all eerily similar.

She takes in three glasses of red wine and orders before opening the floor for conversation. "So?"

"So?" he returns, tearing into a piece of bread hungrily.

"What's this about?"

"We can't enjoy a nice meal together?" Derek asks.

"No," Addison scoffs. Has he honestly forgotten?

He swallows and sighs, "You're right."

"More often than not," she smiles and takes another long pull off her glass. She's not drunk enough for where this is headed. "What did you need to drag me out to dinner for?"

"I wanted...I need to...tell you," he pauses and takes a deep breath, "I've forgiven you."

She'd be offended if she wasn't so amused by the fact that it took her moving and being gone for months on end to get him to grow up ever so slightly. "Thank my lucky stars. I was still really concerned that maybe you hadn't found it in you yet."

"Addison," he chides.

"Don't," she holds up a hand patiently. "Let's eat and drink and make believe like we are those really good friends we used to be..because I didn't come out here so you could-"

"I'm trying to move on," he illuminates.

"Yeah, well, it's coming at the expense of my emotions so find another way to deal with it," she tells him abruptly, putting the wine glass back to her lips, trying to keep it all in line. "You being the good guy always did seem to hurt me a lot more than it should've."

He begins with her nickname and she glares so he merely takes another drink himself. He thought he was doing them a favor. Getting it all in the open and over with. "Sorry."

Neither one of them believes him.

She makes it through appetizers without another word, draining the bottle sitting by their table, and then he takes her hand. Reaching across the black tablecloth, tangling his fingers around hers and he says it again, this time elaborating just a touch. "About the prom and the trailer and the fishing and the elevators. That's not me."

"Maybe it is," she tells him. People change.

"I don't want to be that guy. I'd like to think I'm better than those actions."

"You are," she tells him honestly. "You were."

"I'm trying to be," he pulls his hand back, not wanting the familiar warmth spreading across his chest. "I can't say that I never meant to hurt you, because I did, but I am sorry that I felt the need to do that to you...that I let myself follow through with it. It wasn't right, what I did."

Dinner, taking a sour turn, merely leads to her getting up and rushing to the bathroom. She, against better judgment, clasps her fists tightly, letting her short fingernails leave their angry red marks in her palm. And then she counts. To ten. In seven different languages. Making her brain focus on anything but the overwhelming sadness. Then she counts again. She always had a nagging feeling all those lessons would come in handy somewhere down the line.

"I ordered you the nectarine génoise," he tells her when she returns.

"Thanks," she mutters.

They wait in the quiet, listening to other people's heartbreaks, both wishing that it could be different that it is. She digs her fork into the cake when it arrives, looking for an excuse to have a full mouth.

"Want to go grab a drink?" Derek asks as they slip out the door into the rain, both without an umbrella or care about getting wet.

"You really think that went well enough to warrant spending more time with one another?" Addison questions incredulously.

"Come on Addie, a nightcap, for old times sake. Then I'll take you home."

"I'm not going to Joe's," she orders, falling back into the passenger seat.

"Not what I was thinking."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"In what realm of your head was this a good idea?" She looks up at her hotel, watching as the valet takes Derek's car away and deserts them both.

"This place has an excellent bar, I know, I spent many nights there."

"I bet you did," she retorts, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"Addison," he starts gently, reaching for her unsteady arm, "I miss you sometimes."

She turns toward his face, body still in his control. "Goodnight Derek."

He refuses to let go of her, causing in a strange tug of war. "Don't you hear me?"

"Yes." And thus is the issue. Because sometimes she misses him too. Sometimes she wishes he was there to watch the waves and laugh at her cooking and listen about all the babies she saved, all the miracles she created. With a cursory glance at the heavens, glaring at the invisible constellations, she throws her hands into the air and signals her defeat.

She almost wishes this trip was like the last. Awkward and unwarranted, pleasant and confirming.

"Don't you miss...us? This? The crazy yet predictable safeness of it all?" He releases her, searching for the truth and getting nothing more than her coated back disappearing into the entryway as his answer.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Of course I miss him. Of course I miss our life! How can he do this to me!" She shouts into her cellphone at Naomi, feet hanging off the bed, head meshed with the softest pillows.

"It's what they do," Naomi groans.

"He can't...I'm over him. I was dating Nae. I had a boyfriend."

"Who you didn't love."

"I could've though! If I had the time to sort it out I think, I maybe...I wanted to."

"You can want to love someone all day Addison, doesn't mean you do."

"Sam," Addison mutters and hears her friend's confirmation. "What do I do Nae?"

"Come home."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

She left with about as much fanfare as she came in with. A pitiful goodbye by Richard, who still outright refused to fill her position, especially since he heard about Derek going crazy. And a few well wishes from the co-workers she liked. She muddles by her front door, sorting for her keys in this mess of a purse.

She enters silently, climbs the stairs silently, and falls into bed silently.

Everything is quiet here but the ocean and it's of little comfort tonight. She counts, gives up, and finally cries. Tucked safely on the sheets he's never seen, on the pillows he's never rested upon.

Missing him never got her anywhere. And she's not going to let it drag her down now.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

What started as some basic research and human curiosity has gotten Derek a little sidetracked at night, hiding in the dark of his office in Meredith's house, looking for any news on his ex-wife. He knows where she works, where that is in relation to the beach (an important detail) and he knows the people she associates herself with on a daily basis. But it's getting less satisfying, pulling up the website, watching that awful commercial, noting how her hair was longer there than when he'd seen her last. It's not accurate. He's just maintaining a standard.

Two days later he knows her address and has google-mapped it, the stupid roof proving pretty uninformative. So he does the only thing he can think of. He's consumed. He owes it to himself to figure this out, whatever it is.

"Derek?" Meredith peeks her head into the dimly lit doorway.

"Oh...was I loud-"

"No, just wondering if you were coming to bed soon," she tells him honestly, never searching for a reason to doubt.

"I couldn't sleep." He motions to the bright computer screen.

"Ok," she grins and shuffles her feet to come sit on his lap.

He quickly exits out of his ticket reservation and brings up a bookmarked page from a surgery he did three months ago. It'll have to do. "It's a nine today," he mumbles into her damp lilac hair.

"Yeah," she agrees, not understanding that she's not the reason for the number, and snuggles into his chest.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Incoming," Naomi whispers harshly, looking over the rim of her coffee cup.

"Wha-"

"Hey," Derek smiles cutely, just enough to see Addison's jaw reset and then clamp down.

"You'll excuse us," Addison demands and drags her ex-husband off by the lapels of his sport coat before running straight into Richard. "What is-"

"Addie," he beams and gives a cordial hug.

"What is going on?" She looks between the pair, Derek suspiciously sheepish and Richard bubbling with confidence.

"Do you have somewhere private we could speak, say an office?" Richard asks when the group Derek just fought through attaches themselves to the glass plated wall to watch the showdown.

She winds them through the hall, stomach bouncing with anticipation, and calmly takes the seat behind her desk. She needs the control. "I want an explanation."

"We...Richard has an offer you shouldn't refuse," Derek tells her, "I'm just along for a little vacation."

Her nose crinkles instinctively and her fingers push into her thigh trying not to reach out and slap him in frustration. "Let's hear it then."

"The board has given the go ahead for a new wing of the hospital, and we thought you may be interested in being the founding head of the new department. Think about it. All new equipment, more room, a larger staff. Addison...this is what you've always dreamed of. You have a chance to change things for the better. A real opportunity to showcase your talent, and I'd be behind you one hundred percent."

Addison bites down on her lip to keep from screaming out. The thing she always wanted was a family, and yes, she did lose sight of that a lot, and sure she put her career in front of a lot of things but California has put many issues into perspective. While the endeavor would be interesting and high pace, and she'd certainly make her mark, it's not as appealing as it once would have been. "I'll think about it. Now, I have patients."

"It's your lunch," Derek interjects and looks at her spotless desk, "And by the looks of it the rest of your day is clear. Come on, we'll stop by the store and I'll make you real food for dinner."

"I have plans," she asserts commandingly.

"You don't," Derek argues, having already researched her schedule from many angles, including the little kid upfront masquerading as a receptionist.

"You don't know-"

"But I do-"

"Derek you don't get to waltz into my office, and invite yourself into my home. We aren't married anymore. I don't have to share."

"I never asked you to share. We can go out if you want, if you aren't okay with me seeing your two bedroom, two bath beach house..." he stops himself, annoyed that it slipped out, the details he's pouring over endlessly. "I mean...I'm just guessing-"

"Are you stalking me!"

Richard clears his throat and tugs on his folded collar trying to interrupt. "How about we all go out to dinner. Derek," he orders, "let's give Addison some space."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"He has no right to be doing this. It's not his place," Addison huffs as she paces through her office barefoot.

Naomi looks up from the couch, throughly bored by all things involved with Derek C. Shepherd, and grunts, "I'll come with you...and I'll ask Sam to come. That way they won't talk business and Derek won't be able to steal you away."

"I can't believe he can expect me to fall back into his arms like that. He's....dating the intern!"

Naomi stands, aware that she was unheard and heads straight back out into the work world. There is no reasoning with Addison when she is like this, especially when the cause is that damn dark haired neurosurgeon.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

The plan, failing miserably, when both Naomi and Sam realized that Maya would need to come too, came to an abrupt end when Richard hastily excused himself to head back to the hotel. Stuck and out of ideas she resorted to dragging him home for a drink and a "nice" send off.

"I'm not doing this with you Derek. We aren't going to be the divorced couple who doesn't learn from their mistakes," her head nods toward Sam's house and she pushes more sand in between her frustrated toes.

"I'm not proposing anything Addie...I just...miss you."

"Congratulations," she spews out sarcastically. "Where was that our entire marriage?"

"Don't do that, don't be spiteful Addison. You know as well as I do we haven't enough time for it." He pushes himself to the ground, back resting against the plush chair, and tilts his head up to find the burning stars. "Can you honestly tell me that you don't think about it?"

"You won't make me this woman. You aren't going to sit down there," she says kicking him with her foot, "and say all these things to get me into bed with you and then....what? Leave in the morning and hope I take the job. Is the job even real?"

"It is," he confirms. "I got lucky and had a way out here but I do mean it."

"What about Meredith?"

"I don't know."

"You love her?"

"It's...complicated," he replies softly, focusing on the waves.

"Complicated doesn't change it," she argues.

"I do but...I look at you and it's not the same...and once upon a time I believed that what we had was the most real thing in the world so...you tell me."

"I'm with someone-"

"Where is he then?"

"Working," she lies easily. It's gotten so second nature over the years. "He's a cop. SWAT actually."

"Impressive," Derek mutters. "You love him?"

Her mind flips through the flashcards of stock answers and all she gets is a blank. "I want to."

Derek stands and brushes the mess off his jeans. Slowly, he bends down and brushes the short red hair off her neck before pressing his lips down. "I'm offering Addie. I want to be the guy...I was. I want to be that guy with you."

His words tickle up over the gentle ridge of her ear, causing her chest to collapse inadvertently. "I...can't."

He pulls back slightly, moment lost, refusing to push any further when she's this rattled. "It's a great resume builder, if nothing else."

"You know," she laughs, "for the first time that's something that doesn't have me jumping for joy."

"I understand the feeling. Goodbye Addison." He slowly saunters back over the deck and finds his way out onto the street to call a cab back to the hotel. Maybe it didn't go exactly to plan but it was enough to move the ball into her court.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Addison stares at the multi-colored screen once more before taking another breath of the salty air drifting in from her open balcony doors. She looks to the boxes on her left, packed and waiting for movers, and the half full closet on her right just in case she needs to come back. She told Naomi she was going to help them set up, nothing more. Keeping it half true, needing that back up for security purposes but secretly hoping she'll eventually be able to put his house on the market.

When the horn blares in her driveway she manages to stand up and face her statuesque self in the mirror. "Here goes nothing."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**


	2. it seems to be governing

**_~-~-~-~-~-~  
_****_The Clockwise Witness  
- DeVotchKa_**  
~-~-~-~-~-~

"What are you doing here?" Addison asks, taken aback by the familiar figure waiting in baggage claim.

"Picking you up," Derek smiles easily, even given the absurdly early morning hour.

"You didn't have to," Addison insists, rubbing her burning, itchy eyes. When you leave on a whim sometimes you have to fly through the good times to be sleeping and she's used to her sleeping these days, what with all the free time she has.

He pulls her hand down, convinced he already knows that she'll be complaining in no time and then passed out in the front seat of his car minutes after that. "Richard mentioned you had called and I thought I'd be polite. No sense in finding a cab at this time."

"Then why isn't Richard here?" she snaps back, jutting an arm out to beat his in the race for her luggage.

"Board meeting tomorrow morning, he has to look good. I, on the other hand, generally look like I haven't slept in days so I don't mind."

Instead of arguing and causing a scene Addison shuts her mouth, gets a death grip on the black handle and trudges along behind him out into the rain unprepared. Her umbrella died a death and she has since forgotten to buy another. She puts it in the immediate "on fire" list along with a hundred other things. Steering her wheeled suitcase out the entire way to Derek's old rambling vehicle that she despises, she throws it in the back and hops in the front seat not awake enough to notice that her dress is riding up her thighs and her ex-husband is taking advantage of the situation.

Derek climbs in, spots the pale skin he used to love now a wonderful shade of tan, and clears his throat as a precaution. She startles but says nothing, letting her head fall against the door jam. "Night Addison."

"I'm not sleeping Derek, it's nearly impossible in this thing anyway," she tells him, a hand tapping against the sturdy metal frame to prove her point.

"I'm sure you'll find a way. You always do," he retorts, turning over the ignition. Secretly she loves this old thing that they used to take road trips out to Connecticut in. She even told him so on a few occasions when she was completely hammered and trying not to throw up in the backseat.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Stirring slightly, Addison reaches out a hand across the cold expanse of sheets and groans. The distinct taste in her mouth, something undoubtedly familiar, tells her that she did not brush her teeth after that bit of wine yesterday. Her eyes still closed she rolls to the left to get up and stumble to the bathroom but she rams into something on her way, something that places a warm arm over her body and snuggles into her neck.

Then it comes to her. Blue eyes springing open, she gasps deeply, nearly sending herself into a choking fit. The man behind her isn't Kevin, it's Derek and in the forty more seconds it takes to process how inappropriate that is she realizes that she does still have her clothes on from yesterday and that he is sleeping deeply and probably doesn't understand she isn't Meredith. She disentangles, lurches to a different bathroom than she was expecting and steals Derek's toothbrush to clean her mouth with. Finishing up, she tries in vain to get the wrinkles out of her dress and then wanders to the front porch to call a cab.

"Addison?"

"Oh!" she jumps, a hand flying to her chest before she spins around. "Richard! What are-how-you live out here?"

"Shep offered to let me use some of his land," he explains, drifting away for a moment before returning with an extra mug of coffee and waving her over to his porch.

She tumbles through the dew drenched grass barefoot, thoroughly disgusted by the wet blades tickling her feet and shivers when she reaches her destination. "Thanks for the ride."

"Well, I knew he'd get you where you needed to go safely," Richard say cryptically, more awake than she can hope to be in an hour.

"How's your meeting going?" Addison glances around at the sunrise blanketed forest. It's gorgeous up here, but it's not her thing. Fresh mountain air stops being impressive after the first week. "Looks really productive."

"Meeting?" Richard asks confused, dropping the front page of the paper on the table in front of her.

"Never mind," Addison mumbles and stares at the headlines endlessly. They haven't changed much. She wonders if the crossword up here in Seattle is any good, if she would be worried about doing it in pen instead of pencil. She never had any inclination to try before, she was still too hell bent on ignoring the fact that she had a new address.

"I'm glad you're back Addie," Richard smiles warmly.

"It's temporary," she replies instantly. She needs that light at the end of tunnel to make this okay.

"Well don't say we didn't warn you, but I'm sure you're going to be wooed persistently."

"I usually am," she grins slyly, before stealing the part of the paper she actually wants and looking around longingly for a writing utensil. "Do you-" she stops as a pen falls gracefully from the heavens above and Derek drops lazily into the chair next to her, a cup of morning best already stuck to his hand. "Thank you."

"Morning Shep," Richard says.

"Morning," Derek mumbles, thoughts circling how he close he got to be to his ex-wife all night, and how often he thinks about her in the not ex manner.

"I see you stayed last night," Richard begins, setting his section down and staring pointedly at the pair, Addison lost in her world of ups, downs and frustrating clues.

"I figured if I left her in the woods you would have had to deal with the screeching. I was doing you the favor."

"You could have taken me to a hotel," Addison interjects half-heartedly. She's missed this. All of it if she's honest. Her mentor, a close friend and even Derek, in whatever capacity she can have him. But this isn't about Derek. It's about helping. It's about the babies. She resolved on the plane ride just that one thing. She's here to do her job and to forget about the late night beach talks, to prove to herself that she and Derek don't go together anymore.

"Yes, however, you fell asleep before telling me where I should be going and when we got here you led yourself in and passed out again. Without a complaint might I add."

Addison rubs her neck, kinked from sleeping in a position she isn't used to anymore. Kevin she was usually curled up next to, her head on his chest but Derek likes to hold his bedmates tightly. He likes to feel them breathing. She distinctly remembers a time in her marriage when she felt like she was suffocating when he wasn't wrapped around her. "It's fine."

Derek stretches out his legs under the table as they grow silent, lost in their reading and games, Derek watching the sun compete with the clouds as it comes to a high point in the sky. Soon they'll have to leave. There's paperwork to do and lives to save but for a moment he can pretend and he can relish in his good fortune, in his luck.

He doesn't know what he's doing but it feels too good to stop.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Derek," Richard calls out, trying to catch up to his pace. They find themselves shoved into the elevator moments later, Richard thankful that everyone is too immersed in their work to care about what he is saying. "I brought Addison-"

"Nothing happened," Derek groans, face down to his cell phone, trying to text Meredith back and tell her than dinner sounds great and that he's off at nine.

"You're damn right nothing happened," Richard interrupts loudly.

"Relax," Derek exhales, "I slept on the couch. Addison slept on the bed. Never shall the two mingle. Now, I have lives to save...Chief."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Addison, hold on a second please," Richard tells her as she drops a chart off at the nurses station and starts back toward the new NICU.

"Hello Richard, here to supervise?" Addison grins and starts striding forward, encouraged by his first day visit.

"No, no. I...Addie," he steers her toward a small alcove by her arm. "I need you word that nothing happened last night and if it did...I don't want to know," he pauses growing flustered, "that's not what I mean. What I mean is...I need to know but I don't want to know but Meredith is-"

"Richard, relax and breathe," Addison instructs patting his arm. "I slept on the couch. Derek slept in his own space. No big deal. I found a nice hotel room this morning and my things are being delivered as we speak."

"You slept on the couch?" Richard asks suspiciously, fresh off his visit with Derek.

Catching on Addison stumbles only slightly, her voice inadvertently peaking up at the end. "Derek slept on the couch?"

"That sounds more probable," Richard concurs wearily.

"Derek slept on the couch," Addison affirms confidently with a tell-all smile. "And I slept on the bed and now I'm safely tucked away uptown."

"Uh-huh."

"Richard, honestly, you're headed straight for another anxiety attack. Don't worry about it. I know what I'm doing."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Richard mutters under his breath as she swaggers away to go make him some more money. In theory this was such a wonderful idea, in actuality he may be causing more headaches than it's worth.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Derek!" Meredith shouts, well above the low hum of the television.

"Huh-what?" Derek replies, draping his arm over the back of the couch and scouting closer to her.

"You aren't even listening to me. I'm going to bed." She shakes her head understandingly, hopes that they can get it back together tomorrow, find that level of cohesion, and scurries away for a few precious hours of recharging.

It takes Derek less than ten minutes to scoop his keys off the cluttered counter, a mess with muffin pans. He shakes the residual flour off his possession and nearly runs to the street.

He's feeling no worse for arriving then he did when he left. However, when she answers the door half-awake he begins having second thoughts.

"What do you want?" Addison groans, eyes squinting at the light trying to invade her dark room.

"I-" Derek pauses. He doesn't know what he wants. He just needed to see her. An impulse.

"Go home. Stop whatever you are thinking because I don't care and go home to Meredith before she can figure out that you are gone." She slams the door in his face because she's not in the mood for long talks about feelings and crap, and then shuffles back to the bed to become comatose for the better part of seven hours. Readjusting to hospital time has been difficult and her body and mind are protesting at every new patient piled up in her wing.

Derek leans against the wall opposite her door, the lump still secure in his throat. Part of him wants to demand to be let in, so he can be heard out, but the more rational side understands what is happening. He rises slumped forward, exhales, and resolves to not involve Addison until he is certain.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Stop looking at your ex-husband...stop it...no, you are over him. You are." Callie says softly, appearing to be having a conversation with her lunch tray.

Addison looks from side to side, heart racing, wondering if she's that transparent. "Yes, thank you. I needed that."

"Oh hey!" Callie smiles, delighted that someone will sit with her. "Sorry, giving myself a little pep talk. I seem to be going through this missing George phase for some reason. I should hate his guts, you'd hate him right? I mean...never mind," she decides remembering the tangled history. She has always been wonderful at sticking her foot in her mouth.

"It comes and goes," Addison answers quickly switching the topic, "So..."

"No, nothing new. I work, I drink, I try not to screw interns."

"Been there," Addison verifies. Oh lord, how she's been there.

"We need to go out. You'll go out with me right? Keep me from making horrible, horrible mistakes?" Callie nods for her when the fork full of greens enters her friend's mouth. "God I'm so glad you are back. Mark's been...otherwise occupied and I need a person."

"Happy to help." Addison pushes her salad around some more before giving up and moving on to her water. She's too nervous to eat, and too high strung to focus on anything today.

"So tonight? Joe's?"

"We should try somewhere new," Addison pushes not wanting to deal with anything or anyone work related. She misses the beach like she never thought she would. She misses talking to her patients for more than ten minutes before being shoved out of the room toward another. It's busy and new and she knows that it will slow down and she'll get a handle on it but for now it's difficult.

"Not tonight. Tonight we need familiarity," Callie decides. "For your return."

"Alright," Addison agrees, without the energy to fight her.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

He's been watching her for approximately three hours, 25 minutes, and 43 seconds. Not that he's counting. And not that Callie is giving him any time to intervene and buy a drink. He chucks another dart at the board, narrowly missing the bull's eye.

"She's really cramping your style still?" Mark asks, taking his own shot.

"What?"

"Addison," Mark clarifies, reaching for his beer. "You've been glaring all damn night."

"Yeah." Derek will let everyone think whatever they want.

"I thought you guys were all rehabilitated and civil," Mark tries cautiously. He never knows where he lays in this mess.

"We are," Derek groans and drowns himself in scotch.

Three hours, 27 minutes, ten seconds and counting. Clearly she is having more fun.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Addison isn't sure who arrived first but Derek has definitely been behind her for most of the night. In the name of that she's taking it slow, sipping drinks instead of guzzling, trying not to become an inebriated idiot because bad things happen and she's not here for those bad things. She's here for that job she wants to leave. It's so much pressure to be in the same vicinity as him every day, she had almost forgotten.

Callie interrupts the stupid thoughts of bed hair and cozy sleeping positions to tell her she's no fun and Addison reminds her that someone has to make sure she leaves alone. They wander through a bowl of peanuts, discuss everything that means nothing, and laugh heartily over the sordid tales both have gathered in the last few months.

Addison still knows how to have a good time but oddly she's been wishing Derek was about twenty feet closer all night. Regrettably, he keeps sneering at her every time their glances meet. It's not going to happen and she's a fool for thinking it might.

Perhaps the visit was a fluke. A midlife crisis for his midlife crisis.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Miranda, green or black?"

"What am I choosing?" Miranda rolls her eyes.

"I have a date. Green or black?" Addison asks quite seriously. Her second week in town and Derek's seemed to lay off a little, neither speaking unless forced to, literally. Sometimes she thinks she sees him out of the corner or her eye but she's chalked it up to wishful thinking and moved on...with Tad.

"I have a great many skills Addison, none of them are helping you dress yourself."

"Oh come on, secretly I know you like girly things. I won't tell anyone." Addison twirls her pen through her fingers speedily, proving her own talents and then resorts to scribbling on the page in front of her.

"I am not your mother," Miranda warns, snapping up a chart before leaning in. "Try green."

"Thank you!" Addison calls out as the shorter woman retreats in embarrassment. "Oh Callie, green or black?"

"What are you taking a poll on?" Callie asks as Derek unknowingly slips closer.

"I have a date. Green or black?"

"Black. Always black."

"One and one," Addison grins spinning around to see Derek approaching. It's not a mirage. Adrenaline floods her core and she grabs her silent pager, shakes it confused, and then takes off.

"What the-" Callie begins and then stops when she sees the Neurosurgeon drifting toward her. "Of course."

Derek drops his head, and clenches the two cups in his hands tighter before giving up completely. He's been trying for almost a week now, especially after the particularly disastrous meeting yesterday. A week of aimlessly driving at night, trying to avoid her hotel. A week of purposefully finding ways to sit in on her surgeries. Seven days of darting in and out of the NICU and memorizing the board so he could know where she was at all times. And now, if his ears don't deceive him, she has a date with someone who is unquestionably better than him, better for her than him. He has to do something.

"Dr. Torres," he grins, proffering the cup of hot cocoa that she may not even like. "Juju."

"What do I need juju for?"

"Your date tonight," he blurts out.

"I don't have a date tonight," Callie tells him annoyed already.

"You do now," Derek nods. "Well...not a date per say because Meredith and I...but we never hang out Dr. Torres and that's a shame...we should know each other better than that. I think we owe it to ourselves," he pauses when her eyebrows arch in protest. She's not his biggest fan and honestly he's not surprised. "I'm buying."

"Deal," she smiles, almost positive of what's happening but still intent on making him work for it every step of the way.

"I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Eight," Callie corrects knowingly. "We should try that new place downtown. I hear it's...sinful. Think you can still get reservations?"

"Oh...sure," Derek nods. "Yeah, I can do that. So eight then?"

"Meet you in the lobby. Bring your wallet."

That leaves him about three and a half hours to figure out where the hell Addison has her date, its proximity to the place he is headed, an escape route, and a way to call it off so he has enough time to properly research the competition. It's going to be a busy afternoon.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Too...revealing?" Addison asks, twirling around her office, Callie lying lazily on the couch behind her. She got a significantly better space this time, no more staring at the interns having lunch outside her window.

"Not revealing enough," Callie snorts and tries to mentally sort through what she has in her locker that she can wear. It's going to be a tight squeeze.

"Cal," Addison whines. "I want this to work. I need a good date. I haven't had one in months."

"Translation- you need to get laid?" Callie waits but Addison doesn't answer. "You know I bet Mark would still be willing to...service you."

"I'm not a car!" Addison shouts and flops onto the end of the couch, two different pairs of heels in hand, one red dress nearly painted on.

"What are you doing with Derek?" Callie asks hesitantly. Yes, it's her job. No, she doesn't care.

"I- what do you mean?" Addison sputters suddenly, mouth talking immediately but not intelligently.

"Oh Addison," Callie sighs and then rolls herself up, slapping her knees as she goes.

"What?" Addison nearly screams as she leaves the room without another word.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Tad's stats are about as unimpressive as his overall character. He's boring, balding, and an accountant but right now, to Addison he's the funniest man alive. She giggles at another lame joke that could have been told better by a chicken and leans forward, face supported by her hand. This will never go any further than tonight, not that she didn't know that when she asked him out earlier, but she'll be damned if she isn't a little scatter-brained by Callie's disapproving tone earlier.

There might need to be a public service announcement about how she is here for work and not to rekindle...anything with anyone, least of all the man she couldn't work out a marriage with. "Tad," she brushes his hand softly, "would you excuse me for just a moment? I want to go freshen up."

"Sure," he grins widely and settles back into his chair, rubbing the spot she just touched.

Derek seizes his opportunity the moment it arrives. "Callie, I need- I will be right back."

"Do what you gotta do," Callie shrugs, their conversation already awkward and at a near standstill. She saw Addison being ushered in by the shorter, homely man an hour earlier and that's all she needed.

He gulps heavily on his way over to the table, carefully hiding behind large plants and corners just in case Addison doesn't actually take long, in case this date is going better than it looks like it is going.

"Hi," Derek smirks taking Addison's seat and facing the man that shouldn't even be in the league below his ex-wife's, not that Addison is amazingly confident all the time, especially with dating he recalls.

"Hello," Tad greets. "You-"

"My name is not really important. The woman you are with, how do I put this," he pauses, "she's married."

"What?" Tad asks frantically, his own wedding ring digging into his pant's pocket.

"Nearly 13 years. Sorry." Derek takes a sip of water and then stands again, more reassured that he did the right thing.

Addison carefully dabs a towel with water and presses it just under her eyes. She doesn't care if her makeup smudges because she is going out of her mind. She could have sworn...no, it's not even a possibility. Taking her time, she arrives back at the table to find Tad missing but the check taken care of already. She supposes that's what she gets for asking out the first guy she saw after her elevator run in with Derek yesterday.

_"Listen to me, please," Derek begs, hitting the stop button. He's positive. Now he just needs a plan. He started this after all, it's his obligation to see it through._

_"I have patients," Addison tells him, her voice shaky and callous. Today is not the day to test her._

_"I feel...I miss you," he relents softly. "I miss you all the time now. Not just sometimes Addie. All the time. At night, in the morning, during surgeries...I wish you were watching. And I-"_

_"-have Meredith," she finishes for him, lips pursing unapologetically. "I'm not the person you fall back on. I'm not some contingency plan for when it all goes up in flames with the blonde. I won't be that woman." That woman is her...whatever she is. Mother, she believes is what the rest of the world calls it._

_"It's not like that," Derek insists._

_"I don't believe you," Addison retorts, taking it upon herself to start the elevator again._

_"You do," he pauses watching her head start to smoke, "you came back."_

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

There's something about Addison that always invades. At one point he felt crowded by her but now it's all consuming in a different way, in the way it was when they began dating. Except they aren't dating, they aren't even speaking and Meredith is currently yelling in his general direction. He tries to argue back but his heart isn't in it. He never wanted to hurt her but leaving without explanation won't be good either and saying it was a mistake? Worse.

"What do you want Derek?" Meredith questions ominously. The floor plans, talks about babies, it was a hoax. She was filling in, this whole time, and it's infuriating. She thought, well she didn't think it was like this. They were so solid, so good lately, for them.

"I don't...know," he says softly, not wanting Alex or Izzie or Mark or Lexie or whoever the hell else is staying here tonight to hear what's happening in the room upstairs.

"I should...what was it even for? Why did you drag me through- get out. Get out," she demands, pushing him toward the door with the little fists he used to love.

"Meredith," he stops and rethinks. "I didn't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you, I love you. That's not...what I want from this."

"I'm not hurt," she illuminates, "I'm angry. Leave."

When he makes it down the creaking stairs she collapses and breaks, the water that's been dying to get out for months finally catapulting out of her eyes. It was all too good to be true.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Better ideas, she's had them. Hiding behind newspapers inauspiciously, dashing around corners and then watching from a safe distance, sitting behind the new interns in his galleries. All bad things she's allowed in the last week. Never a sentence shared, but she could tell you exactly what he's worn to and from work every day. But this is probably her worst idea to date, for several reasons. One, Richard lives four feet away and will see her. There is no way around it. He will ask questions, sniff around, and she's not interested putting something into words that she can't even accurately describe in her head. Two, it's completely rash and not thought out. There's this urge, desire to just be held, nothing more.

It's a bad day and she makes mistakes. That's the way it goes. History repeats.

The sturdy headlights blast through the night on the bumpy journey and while she has plenty of time to talk herself out of this, she isn't, she's not even trying. Fiddling with the radio, looking for deer and other woodland creatures, adjusting mirrors, that's how she spends the drive.

If he's not there, she'll leave. It's simple and that's what should happen, ideally. He doesn't live out here anymore. Maybe she'll dash in and steal a shirt to sleep in or something, never speaking of it to anyone, including Naomi who has been checking her progress this entire time. Impressed, but she won't be anymore.

Addison doesn't see the other headlights behind her until it's too late. There's no choice but to head up the muddy "driveway" and pray it's her boss behind her, even though she knows it's not. Reluctantly, guiltily she climbs out and faces him. The rain falls in heavy sheets and she should dash to the porch but she can't move. It's not her place without being invited in and he's just watching her, steadily, needing a first move.

Her body slacks against the slick vehicle, lights still blaring forward, making her little spot seem so much darker than it is. "I-"

"Addison, I-"

"I think...I forgot...my...other set of keys here," she regurgitates poorly.

"Oh," he pouts, "yeah, let's...go look." He leads the way, reminding her to turn her car lights off so the battery doesn't die overnight, assuming they are both staying. Once inside, he kicks out of his wet shoes, pulls the short socks down his feet and heads to the closet. He tosses her an old pair of sweats and a shirt that may actually even be hers, a few remnants left over from him moving out, and he's thankful to have something to offer other than forgotten boxers and an undershirt.

She changes in the kitchen quickly, from a need for dry heat and to relieve social awkwardness. Then she carefully tosses her wet clothes into the dryer, knocks on the paneling, and enters the bedroom when she gets no response.

Derek holds up the blankets on the bed he has already situated himself on and without permission pulls her back flush against him, body loosening as he feels her come in contact.

"If Richard asks," Addison mumbles, finally succumbing to the exhaustion of trying to hold back for so long, "you slept on the couch."

"Night Addie," he whispers into the darkness, the wind outside howling heavily around them, creating a melody of loud lullabies to whisk them away.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**


	3. everything once dear to me

**_~-~-~-~-~-~  
The Clockwise Witness  
- DeVotchKa  
~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Dr. Bailey!" Richard yells down the hall and waits for the short woman to come to a screeching halt at the sound of his voice. That's how things work around here but oddly she keeps pressing forward, a little more toward the coffee down the hall. She's not awake enough for this conversation.

"Miranda!" Richard scolds when he catches up to her, the cup already glued to her lips.

"Chief, you looking for me?"

Richard scowls and lets out a huff. "I need your help."

"Regarding?"

"Addison," he begins and watches her face fall substantially. "And Derek. I need to know what they are doing."

"You try asking them?"

"I woke up this morning and she was sitting in his lap, on my porch, waiting for my coffee!"

"Seems pretty obvious what they are or were doing." Miranda clears her throat. "I need to go. Patients, lives, surgery."

"Miranda," Richard stops her by the sleeve of her lab coat. "I need you to watch them for me. I can't be everywhere all the time...and this can't be like New York. My hospital doesn't need to be any more of a circus than it already is. We are number 12 for crying out loud!"

"Well, certainly, with Dr. Montgomery back sir, we are no longer number 12. As for your mission, I am a surgeon. A good surgeon. A skilled surgeon. And people need me...so they can live. I don't have time to chase those two idiots down the hall and berate them. Find someone else."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Chief," George squeaks. "You needed me?"

Richard stares at his pack of interns, begging for work and then mumbles something incoherent. "Follow me O'Malley."

"Yes sir." George waves along his posse.

"You're a sponge O'Malley, one of the best. I need you on this," Richard says seriously leading them toward the OR Board.

George tries to wipe the frown off his face. Ever since becoming a resident he's actually done less impressive work then he did as a second year intern. At whatever rate, this could be interesting. "Okay."

"You need to get rid of your interns though, this is a solo operation."

George's eyes widen briefly before realizing that this has nothing to do with cutting people open. He flips around to face his haggard looking crew. "Pit guys. Go." He gives them an apologetic look when they begin to bitch and then shrugs. If there was a best teacher, he'd so be it. "So, who am I spying on today?"

"Dr. O'Malley," Richard gasps and then gives up. "Shepherd and Montgomery. I need you to make sure they are never together. You have my permission to rearrange the board. People complain you send them to me."

"This seems-"

"And if they are together, you watch. Observe for a minute and then you break it up. Fake page, drag Montgomery off to look at babies, tell her one of them isn't breathing, I don't care. At the end of the day you report back to me."

"Yes sir," George groans. Boring as usual. And he thinks he is about to get a lot of grief. There's nothing like looking like an idiot to brighten your morning.

"Don't let me down," Richard warns.

"I won't," George complies and then studies the board. For the first half of the day he's going to be dragging his feet around the halls looking in longingly at people with real cases because they both are in surgery until noon, in separate operating rooms. Some job.

By 3 o'clock George hasn't even had them glaring at each other in the hallways, and evidently Shepherd is taking off early, at 5, for some unknown reason, so the rest of George's 7 hour shift is going to get more boring than he thought possible.

At 7 o'clock on his third day of watch, with nothing new to report, Chief finally pulled him off duty for the day and told him to find something to scrub in on. Montgomery or Shepherd though. At least it's work.

His big break came on day five, just outside the cafeteria, as they paused after almost running right into one another.

"Dr. Montgomery," Derek nods, doing his best to keep up the decorum. It wasn't discussed but both obviously thought it better than to drag whatever they are doing into work with them.

"Dr. Shepherd," Addison mumbles back, eyes trained to the piece of paper so her cheeks won't blush about the date they have in six hours. It took him four whole days to call her, and for the entirety she felt like there was a box of cement sitting on her chest, restricting her breathing.

"How are the babies?" he asks to keep her there, if she leans in just a little closer he could smell her. The sterility of the hospital and light touch of something purely Addison, he's missed it. Besides he has a thing for smells.

"Good, how are the brains?" she returns, unwillingly, wanting to get out of this situation where everyone can see exactly what they are doing and scrutinize every movement. Surely, by now the news of the Dreamy relationship being on the rocks has hit the airwaves and she is not going to get mixed up in that story no matter how much she is actually involved. She's here for work, and a little bit of Derek. Not that she knows where that is going, not that they talk about it's implications.

It's easier not to speak. Always has been for them.

"They're broken," he kids, "but as long as I get to repair them I'm a happy camper. Good luck with you 4:15 today Dr. Montgomery," he says biting back the need to add that she won't need luck because he's watched her do that exact procedure twenty hundred times and she's always amazing. They operate the same. Calm, gentle but complete control, uptight and concerned only when necessary. It is the ins and outs of the game, the only way not to wear yourself down with the grind. He's lost more than he's saved, she has double the chance. Neither are wonderful odds. Neither is something they enjoy dealing with.

"Thank you Dr. Shepherd," she states, voice nervously betraying her. You would think after all these years she would stop being a giddy mess but no, oh no, that'd be too easy.

"Dr. Montgomery," George intervenes when neither makes a move to get away. "They-we need you in the NICU, one of the babies isn't...breathing."

"No one paged me," Addison tells him, making sure the contraption on her hip still has battery life.

"No time." He daringly grabs her hand and yanks.

"O'Malley!" Addison screeches, pulling back her own limb.

"We need to hurry," he trots off quickly, not seeing her shrug to Derek or him smile back in a daze.

When they arrive, almost every sick baby sleeping soundly, no monitors blaring or nurses scrambling, George tries to hide.

"Dr. O'Malley, can you explain what the hell you think-"

"That one!" He points to a small premature infant with a blue hat, "He wasn't, I swear."

"What are you even doing up here? You weren't assigned. I know, I can read-"

"Dr. Montgomery," he pauses out of breath, "Shouldn't you be scrubbing in?"

Addison pulls her mouth back tightly, ready to unleash on this fishy situation, "What is going on?"

"No-nothing," George stutters and leans against the wall as casually as possible. "Nothing."

"You can tell me George. I'm not here to hurt you. Tell me what is happening," she coaxes with a warm smile.

"I don't know what you are talking about," George replies and taps his watch pointedly.

Addison takes the hint and begins to walk in the other direction. "I'm watching you O'Malley!"

"Great," George moans. That will make his job so much easier.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Derek smoothes his tie down over his chest before loosening it for the fifth time. He looks in the mirror curiously. Watch - check, wallet - check, matching shoes - check, clean underwear - check. He tightens the tie again, making sure there are no wrinkles in the light blue button down. His nerves rise and swell in the pit of his stomach and frankly he'd rather be operating blind than trying to venture out on a successful date with Addison tonight. But this must be done. There are steps in a relationship.

This is what you do, he tells himself, his brain trying to get a word in about how ridiculous it is to date someone he's lived with for over a decade.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Addison carefully outlines her lashes with the smooth black liquid, mindful not to poke herself in the eye. She investigates both seriously, making sure they are even and balanced. Then she tiptoes out of the entry way onto the sinfully plush carpet to grab her shoes off the end of the bed. She feels the dizziness kick in as her heart begins to pump faster. In ten minutes she'll officially be on her second first date with the love of her life.

Not that it's important. Just a night out. Dinner, drinks, casual talk before more than likely mind-blowing sex.

Maybe, on second thought, it is important.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Derek knocks on the bathroom door, his signal for when he is ready to pick her up, since they are both currently hiding out in a hotel room.

"Hey," she grins, pulling back the door to find him now currently dressed and ready. "You look nice."

"You don't look so bad yourself," he teases, taking in the dip of her green dress. "You wear that for everyone?"

"Just you," she grins before leaning in and pecking his lips. She pulls back, flushed and twittering. "Maybe we should just do this."

"Do what?" Derek asks, drifting away from the bath tub and looking around for his coat. He's certain he threw it down on a chair when they came in two hours ago.

"Get it over with," she squeaks, following behind him restlessly, ankles threatening to give out at any point.

"Get it over with," Derek repeats unsure.

"You know," Addison says softly. "Get it over with. Rip off the band-aid. Then we can have a nice dinner and not be so wound up." She places a hand on his chest, trying to pop a few buttons out of place.

"Addison." Derek backs away. "We aren't-"

"It's going to be awkward no matter what and if we do it now then we can enjoy our evening instead of sitting there thinking about it the entire time."

"You assumed you'd be getting lucky on the first date," Derek huffs.

She smiles instantly, "I did the first time."

"This isn't- we aren't," he pauses trying to gather his thoughts. "If it happens, it happens but right now we should go eat. We have reservations so get your coat."

"We are only going down to the lobby," Addison opposes. They aren't ready to be seen. Hell she can hardly stand still when he is near. Everything is screaming that this is wrong. Every part of her heart is trying to give her fair warning that it'll end up like it always does with Derek but she wouldn't be Addison if she didn't continue on with him. It's their song and dance, she's just waiting to see it turn out differently for once because tripping and falling over his feet through the bridge is starting to get old.

"Get your coat," he demands and begins walking. He saves it until they are waiting for the elevator before explaining. "This is a date. We are...I don't know what we are Addie but I want to do it right."

"Right," she questions hesitantly.

"We can't screw this up again."

"And you are assuming we can do this to begin with."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"I told you," Addison breathes haughtily, chest rising and falling at an residually quick rate, making it kind of difficult to be utterly smug in the dim light of her hotel room.

Derek wipes the trickle of sweat of his forehead, presses a kiss to her nose and falls back onto the warm sheets utterly exhausted. "Uh huh."

"No argument?" Addison dares playfully. Dinner was soured by both their moods and preconceived expectations. She tried, in vain, to engage him the in elevator but he held his ground and now, at one in the morning, she has proven him incorrect exactly once. Addison curls into his side without thinking, and relishes in the fingers raking through her hair. She's missed this. Kevin would cuddle but nothing is ever the same as it is with Derek. She likes to think, in retrospect, that he ruined her. Disgraced the men that would come later because they weren't supposed to be there. Even Mark wasn't right. She didn't fit like this even though it was comfortable at times.

"Too tired to fight," Derek exhales largely, trying to gather his thoughts. His eyes fall closed involuntarily a few minutes later, beginning to drift off until she squirms around, readjusting her neck against his shoulder. "You're kind of a monster."

"I'm taking that as a good thing," she laughs, slowly climbing back into his lap, and blazing a trail down his flushed chest with her swollen lips.

"It's...that's nice," Derek babbles, only aware of the pleasure beginning to peak again. In the course of only a few years he's forgotten many things about the person his heart still calls his wife, including her insatiable appetite for all things him. Even when it was outright horrible; even when he was pretending it was another woman.

"Want to tell me what else you think is nice?" She asks trying to look interested as she shimmies her body further down, hovering just enough to tease him. Inviting him to try and keep her up all night.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"We should probably...talk," Derek initiates, pouring a glass for them both. Something nice and strong because heaven knows they'll need a buzz to do this.

"Talk about what?" Addison asks, slipping out of her skirt, reaching up to untangle her hair so that it can fall to her shoulders. He likes it longer, something to play with he says, and she has no qualms about giving up the short bob.

"Addie," Derek pleads. They've been doing this for nearly three weeks and it's not that he doesn't enjoy it, it's just that her short term lease is starting to run up and California and all its collective worries are beginning to boil on the backburner.

"Derek," she returns, a smile in place, a silent challenge rising between them. She pulls her blouse off gracefully, and leaves the heels for a fun touch.

"Addison, sit please."

"You want me to sit?" She steps slowly to the chair opposite of him and then leans forwards, elbows resting on the table, his eyes following exactly where she wants them. She smirks when he stands, and begins pacing.

"We aren't talking."

"It's overrated."

"You don't think that," Derek huffs, "Stop playing games. We don't have that kind of time."

"Relax," Addison counsels, standing only to start rubbing his shoulders.

"You leave in a one month, one week, and five days. How can I relax when you won't talk to me?"

"I don't want to have this conversation," she admits, releasing her hold, something that has been working splendidly until this point. Feeling out of place she wraps a robe around herself from the back of the bathroom door and then rejoins him, alcohol instantly going to her mouth. Getting naked is not going to help her out tonight.

"I'm not in this for a good time," Derek says suddenly, words backed up from all the sexually diverted arguments of the past. "I...need to know where your head is at."

"All of your stuff is still at Meredith's," Addison says flatly. "Where is your head?"

"I haven't had a chance to pick it up," Derek counters. Really, he is just avoiding the hell out of the situation. He hasn't even had the gall to end it with any sort of decency. Just her demand that he leave and now he hasn't been back since. They speak at work, she doesn't seem mad like the last time, and part of him is wondering if anyone even knows this is happening behind closed doors.

"And I haven't had a chance to think about this." This time she drains the glass and makes a point of pouring another one to drink in the quiet, traffic and city noise their only company as the tension begins to seep back in. It was fun while it lasted, the sex and the company. It was nice to have his friendship back in her life even if this was always looming in the background.

"Well maybe we should sort both of those things out," he stammers, yanking his car keys off the end table and marching toward the door.

"Where are you going?" She jumps instantly, the sliding of the metal chain jolting her back into fight mode. He will not walk out on her again. She can't handle that.

"I'm going to go get my stuff and you're going to sit here, without alcohol," he snatches the bottle and pours it into the bathroom sink. "And figure this out."

She watches the door quiver long after he's gone. She could order more alcohol, or simply walk over to the mini bar and pull out something delightful but she won't and he knows it. Instead, she climbs into bed, robe and all, and pulls the covers over her head until her breath is warm in the enclosed space and her mind drowsy.

Thinking about what they are doing or are not doing isn't an option. That's not what she's here for and it hasn't been a long enough period of time for the cuts to have healed. She's still practically black and bruised from the beating her divorce hit her with. Asleep within minutes, her day long and challenging without Derek's demands, she doesn't notice him slip in two hours later with a red cheek and a bag of ice on his face.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"What happened?" Addison asks for the fiftieth time, over a required breakfast of cereal and coffee. She's never been really keen to the idea of a full meal right after waking up but eventually other people's habits begin to wear on you.

"Nothing, drop it," Derek answers, again the same, again shoveling another spoonful of fiber into his mouth. The milk dribbles onto the table, pooling, and he leaves it. Another mess he doesn't want to deal with.

"Derek half of your face is still red, I think something happened. Can I at least look at it?"

"And I think it's not a big deal, eat." He points at her nearly full bowl and doesn't remove his judgment until she chews silently.

He knocks because it's no longer his place, and in fact, he isn't surprised to see Mark opening up the door in nothing more than an undershirt and a pair of gray sweats.

"Hey, Meredith here?" Derek asks, trying to peep past his friend and evaluate the situation.

Mark's open hand contacts with Derek's cheekbone instantly, then he allows the door swing back open as he swaggers toward the kitchen, hand buzzing with excitement.

"What-" Derek rushes after him. Sure, they're barely above going through an all out brawl on the dining room table, but he's pretty certain he's entitled to knowing what the fuck that was about.

"Preemptory strike Derek," Mark slaps some ice into a bag and thrusts it forward. "Your shit is in the study."

"Preempt-"

"For when you hurt her again," Mark illuminates, pacing through the hallway toward the stairs. "And you will hurt her again," he fills in before Derek can object. "That's what you guys do. Plus if I recall correctly, you had that coming. Just be thankful I don't want to damage these hands." It's a little bit for Meredith, a lot for Addison, and a touch for himself because after all the ridiculous crap they've been through Mark thinks this one takes the cake. Why must people divorce one another to get on with their relationship?

Derek balks silently while his best friend takes a hike upstairs, and then he systematically loads as many boxes as he can into his old rickety car and heads back to Addison, one set of fingers on the wheel, the other permanently attached to the ice.

"Where's your stuff?" She asks after a moment of him staring off into space, her eyes darting around the room wildly, needing a sign to believe in this.

"What are we doing here?" he counters, and swirls his fingers in the space between them. When she doesn't answer he sighs, "Guess we both have our answers."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Derek spends his nights clutching a pillow, staring up at the clouds above his bed, watching the rain fall perilously from above. Sleep never comes, and he stops expecting it to on the third day. He said he needed time apart, after only weeks of saying that they didn't have time to screw around, after pushing her to a breaking point on the very subject and suddenly he doesn't think he has what it takes to do this again.

He doesn't have the energy to fight with her, and he doesn't have the strength to live without her. So he tosses and turns, feet tangled under the rumpled sheets, his senses confused, his heart aching.

She has three weeks left and he needs help.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Addison," Callie steers her down the hall, well out of ear shot of all the nosy nurses. "What is your problem?"

"Nothing," Addison refutes defensively, brushing a few fingers through her knotted hair.

"You have been on edge endlessly. You snapped at Bailey," Callie purses her lips. "Not a good move in the grand scheme of things."

"I didn't mean to," Addison replies. "I...she was in the way and I needed-"

"She had it handled."

"She didn't-"

"She did, and you overrode her authority in front of a large group of people. I have never seen you do that before, ever, especially not to a peer. And out of everyone here you wouldn't do it to Miranda. Spill."

"There's nothing to spill." Addison begins to scurry away before she is met with a firm palm to the shoulder, shoving her through a dark doorway. The latch catches loudly and makes her jump back into the conference room table. Her hand flies to her chest and she tries to trick the fear by fiddling with her long gold necklace.

"You're going to sit and we're going to talk. This is what friends do and considering I just covered for you with the Chief I'd say you owe me."

"You didn't-"

"Is this about stupid Dr. ...Derek?" Callie asks, slipping into a chair and sliding it back against the closed door. They're going to get this out and no one is leaving the room until they do.

"No," Addison scoffs immediately. This isn't about him...or the fact that he hasn't been in her bed for eleven days.

"What did he do?"

"He hasn't done anything...I'm just stressing about leaving here again and going back to California. I'm going to miss you," Addison grins pathetically, hoping it works, and crosses one leg over another.

"I'll miss you too, but I'm not buying that."

"Callie-"

"I have all day." Callie leans back in her chair, stretching her limbs and slouching down to the point where uncomfortable nearly meets comfortable. It doesn't matter because she looks relaxed and in charge, and that's key here.

Addison looks down, noticing that she has a few free hours herself, hours that originally would have been spent with Derek and possibly a cute viewfinder while they shared a nice lunch. "We better order something to eat then."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Sir, I don't know you...or...Dr. Montgomery," George whimpers, his attending squaring off with him as they scrub out. He's lost count of what day it is on his mission and while he's learned more about the human brain then he ever wanted to know, he has yet to see either doctor spend more than a minute with each other. And frankly, this conversation, is not only one he doesn't want to be having, but one he also doesn't want to have to relay upwards.

"I wasn't asking about Dr. Montgomery," Derek reels instantly.

"But you and Meredith aren't together anymore right? I mean, Izzie said you haven't been there-"

"No, I haven't been there," Derek laments. Maybe this would have been easier if he just stuck to one woman. He should have known this was too complicated to do. Date, marry, cheat, divorce, date? Things don't go in that order. Though, he thinks it's important to note, that it's kind of a circle and save two things in the cycle he wouldn't mind going through it again.

"Dr. Shepherd-"

"Never mind O'Malley," Derek decides instantly. "I just remembered I need to go do something."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

He's there waiting for her, outside the hotel room, sitting atop the thick carpet because she has this thing about people letting themselves into her space. It's only been an hour and twenty minutes but judging by her frown it's been a long day.

Addison nearly steps on her ex-husband, eyes not caring to watch where she is going as the floor is usually mostly vacant. She sighs and unlocks the door, leaving it open for him to follow. He does, and she pours them both a drink before kicking out of her painfully high heels and flopping onto the bed to hear his latest arguments. "Go," she urges, needing to move quickly, not wanting anything but logic used in the conversation. She's past feeling. It's been analyzed and then analyzed again. Three more weeks and she's gone and no matter what her heart may be yelling, Addison knows deep down that this cannot work again.

"No interrupting," Derek requests and waits until she gives him a nod. "I was thinking-" he halts as she opens her mouth with a surely tart comment about how that's a new thing. "You listen, and then you can go. You never were one for taking turns."

Addison presses a finger to her lips and zips them, trying to be ignorant and tune out his voice. It's impossible. Even a whisper of his tone makes her shiver. He can be heard before he's seen, something her years of tracking and hunting him down in New York taught her.

"I want this," Derek comments outright. "And I'm sure you've spent our time apart coming up with nine-hundred objections but maybe if you could just...curb those for the next few weeks and go with the flow you will understand how I feel."

"Is that it?" She asks unimpressed after a few moments of silence.

"That...and I'm sorry I thought I needed space. I needed to be with you and you shut down and I reacted how I always react by retreating but I realize now that I can't do that anymore. I need to fight. I will fight. For this, for you. Because you deserve it and because I never did it when I should have."

She swoons without intent, angry at herself for being swayed, but by the time his lips reach hers she's already waving the white flag high in the air. Never mind the fact that his grand speech saves nothing, it makes her feel better, especially after spending two tortuous hours with a prying Callie wondering why in the world no one had a pressing ortho incident she could be paged for.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

She finds that her last days fly at a rate she is greatly uncomfortable with. They share ice cream, spilling on the couch in her room, and snuggle long after everyone would find it appealing. He takes her out, offering a hand before she can search for it. And when their schedules allow they hit the tourist attractions, Derek giving Addison the welcome she should have had the first go around.

At some point it stops being a visit. At some point it becomes about him. Then it's as obsessive as it was the first time. He's addicting, he knows it, and she can't help but fall prey to the routine.

She reschedules lunches, they cancel surgeries for more time together, and she catches him watching her sleep instead of getting his own rest. It's flattering, she can't deny that, but it's also worrisome because it's so wrenchingly familiar. They don't seem to date traditionally, they fall back into old patterns, skipping over the bad parts, making believe that this is what was supposed to happen.

So when she begins watching Meredith more carefully it's only a precaution. Because she knows the next step in their dance and it involves the blonde that he still lights up over too much for her taste. When broached lightly, he replied that they work together and that Meredith Grey shows an immense amount of promise in the field of Neurology. Not that it isn't true, but Addison doesn't trust it.

She doesn't trust him.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

He supposes it began, if he had to pinpoint, around the second week they got back together. He finds himself more attentive, nearly suffocating. Partly to make his point, to prove his word, but also out of fear. Because when they aren't all the way on then they are off and he knows exactly what happens when they are off. Distant, unrelatable, and too far away to grasp she seeks the pleasure of another.

He meant it when he said he had forgiven her, but his gut questions that specific every second of every day. Creeping questions into her conversations with that new guy who loves babies and who undeniably has more free time than he does to court her with. The crazy thoughts latch onto the way and the angle at which she holds his hand at any given moment of the day, and how that compares with the old times, back when they were both naively faithful.

It's natural, he'd be willing to bet, that this sort of thing occurs. It's a hurdle for everyone who has been injured, a major stepping stone for difficult relationships to overcome. But that knowledge doesn't stop him for squeezing her tighter and glaring in Mark's direction without prompting. And it certainly doesn't keep him away when she has a working dinner. Instead, he and his doubt conspire and link arms, joining in the spying of her meal, not at all surprised but still incredibly relieved when she exits unscathed.

He doesn't trust her.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Derek glances at the clock on the wall, burying his head into her lengthening tresses once more. It's D-day, and they haven't discussed the next step. They've been too busy with one another, compulsively worrying when separated. There's been no time for that thought. Regrettably.

She's been feeling like vomiting from the moment she understood where this was headed. It's a shame, and she's the fool, somehow none the wiser for every single experience they've been through. The only thing she doesn't get is how it slipped by her, how in the world she thought this could be so different, why in heaven's name she had faith that they needn't be concerned.

"Derek, sleep please," she mumbles crankily.

"You're awake," Derek croaks, throat constricted and dry.

"Because you're awake and you know how I feel about people watching me sleep. It's weird." She turns over, diving her head into his chest, in the likeliness that this will dissolve into emotional tears.

The tension in the room magnifies as she winds her fingers through his gray shirt, complicatedly making knots out of fabric and forcing his chest collapse in on itself. "Are you leaving today?" he dares quietly. "Addie..." he says softly when she doesn't reply but inches closer, legs tangling together out of her own accord.

"My contract is up," is all she can get out, voice annoyingly shaky.

"That's not what I asked."

"Naomi is expecting me. I have...a job."

"Excuse," Derek accuses instantly. He knows how this boxing ring works.

"I need to go," Addison answers, cheering herself on. It would never work. She spends too many minutes trying to figure out how many centimeters are between Meredith and Derek when they work and how that coincides to their dates. She spends too many damn minutes with the word Meredith outlining her thoughts.

"Will you be returning?" He holds his breath, lungs ceasing painfully.

"I," Addison begins and then pauses, "Derek, come on, we knew...this was just-"

"Don't trivialize it," he warns, on edge with her blasé take. "We both know what this is and...I won't have you disregarding it to make it any easier. "

The difference here is despite his constant wavering skepticism he is willing to keep the pursuit going. But he needs her all in, because they don't manage at only 80 percent. They are a difficult breed, with consuming jobs, and a penchant for never being wrong. It takes effort, effort he's not positive she can give.

"I can't," she whispers and gives in to the tears, stilling when he tries to rub her back. It's her own doing, condolences aren't welcome.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"I'm asking, I'm pleading Addie." Derek clings to her hand, not willing to let go even though her baggage is already well on its way to being loaded into cargo.

"I...can't. I don't...-"

"I love you, and I know you still love me," he interjects, trying to foresee the argument ahead. "A year doesn't take away what he had. We destroyed out marriage slowly but I always loved you. Always, even when I didn't want to."

She cringes as he makes a public display, ruining her anonymity and possibly the chance that no one will recognize her once she is in her seat.

"I don't trust you!" She finally breaks. "I am terrified, always wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. Who the next blonde will be, will she be even younger, and how will she lure you in." Addison pushes her hands against her stomach, the nausea beginning to bubble.

"I won't-"

"I know that," she interrupts. "Logically, even in my heart, I know you won't. I know it was different, I know I ruined us, I just...can't. I can't live like this."

"Addison," he scolds charmingly. "I'll-"

"I'm always waiting for you to leave me again."

"I won't," he argues, concerned more about the water filling her eyes than the harsh tone she's using. If he makes her cry in public he'll never live it down, never get a chance to see it being lived down.

"It's easier this way," she sniffles angrily. "Let it be easier Derek. We tried, I failed-"

"It's not easier. We tried to be apart, we failed at that-"

"Let it be, please, leave it." She yanks her stolen hand out of his and turns her back, shuffling off to find the closest restroom. She has a reddening nose and puffy eyes that need to be attended to immediately.

She hears him shout at her as she stumbles onward, feels her heart rocketing to her feet as she boards alone.

It wasn't just a short trip, but she wishes it could've been.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

A/N: What you wanted? Doubtful. I should have an epilogue-ish thingy soon (midterms) that will appease the rest of you hungry masses. I enjoy their utter dysfunction, though a bit of fluff is always nice as well. Thanks for reading!


	4. how long will this take

A/N: I have to be honest and say that I (in my own head at least) really ended this story with the last chapter. But I also like you all enough to indulge in a little sort of epilogue, even if it did take ten years to produce. Enjoy-

**_~-~-~-~-~-~  
how long will this take  
~-~-~-~-~-~_**

_1 week later..._

Addison stuffs her chilly hand into her pocket on the short trip from her car down the path to her door. Her fingers fiddle with the keys in anticipation of what she will be seeing shortly. Since she's left it's been mostly recovery. Getting used to the old routine, falling back on conversation with her patients, rebelling at the feel of her own empty bed. Sure she misses all of them especially Richard, Callie, and Miranda but life really is better here. At least that's what she keeps telling herself at night when she can't sleep. And frankly, she'd miss Derek but-

"Evening," he grins, sliding up the wall, jumping at attention.

He's been living on her deck since four hours after she landed. It's getting old. "Hi."

She jams the key into the lock, noticing his gaze linger over today's outfit like he hadn't seen it earlier. Right then she's not sure if it's because she's had a bad day or if she's just sick of everything in her life but it happens just the same. Inevitable in all reality. "How long are we going to do this?"

"When are you going to let me in, like the polite homeowner I know you are, so we can talk?" Derek counters, having had a copious amount of time to think about this. Living next to someone's door can do that for you.

"Never," Addison bites back, attitude definitely derived from her earlier run-ins with bitchy pregnant women who have the swollen ankles, backaches, and heartburn that she's always wanted.

"Well you have your answer then." He leans in quickly and brushes a quick kiss to her cheek. "Night Addie."

Addison nearly growls, throwing her purse inside the open doorway and then grabs the sleeve of the same shirt he's had on since Sunday and drags him in behind her.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"I want you to leave," Addison simmers, slinking to her couch and flopping herself onto it.

Derek's never seen this place, just through the windows sometimes when he gets bored. Sam leant him a key so he could go sleep at his house, told him he would call if Addison left the premises but so far the spot by the door hasn't been too bad. She even feeds him most days, sometimes even joins him for meals. "I'm not leaving until you hear me out...and even then."

"Derek, I know this is hard but it's hard right now. It will get better. You should go back to Seattle and wait it out."

"Is that what you're doing?" Derek smirks and drinks in the atmosphere. The big doors facing the ocean are wide open, and he's competing with the noise, loving the fresh salt that drifts in off the waves. "Waiting it out?"

Addison grumbles to herself and then slips into the kitchen, loosing her shoes on the way. Two glasses of wine in hand she returns to find Derek tracing over the little knick knacks and framed pictures he used to know very well. She offers him the drink to distract him before he can reminisce over what once was, and they reconvene together, this time only inches apart. It takes a mere matter of seconds before his fingers begin to rub her nervous knee and he clears his throat prepared to use his closing arguments. All the facts have been presented, evidence admitted, jury hopefully swayed.

"I think that you don't want to believe we can have a future. I think," Derek pauses after catching her attention, "that you prefer we stayed doomed for eternity. It makes us a little less wrong, less screwed up somehow but that aside I'm doing what's right. I'm fighting Addison. For you. A lot late, and it's obviously not appreciated but it's all I can give."

"I don't-"

"You don't trust me," Derek nods. That was a little trickier than he had anticipated in the grand scheme of things. "There isn't a lot I can do about that and frankly I can say the same about you. But trust comes with time and that's all I'm asking for."

"Time," Addison repeats, mulling over the idea. "Here?" she asks minutes later, welling into their silence.

"Wherever you want. Here, Tokyo, Atlanta." Derek breathes in a sigh of relief. They could do this on the moon for all he cares.

"What about Richard?"

"He owes me some slack." And he may have already told Richard this leave was definitely going to be extended. He was met with a stern threat, and made to promise that he really wasn't going to indulge in any of the nonsense that happened a little over a year ago.

"We had time in Seattle," she reminds him.

"Yes, but apparently I was the only one convinced this would work then. We both have to try to make progress."

"Now you understand," Addison grumbles under her breath and then increases her tone. "What if it falls apart, what if we can't- I can't get past-"

"We'll take that step if you'll let us get there Addison," Derek smiles and pushes her back.

"This is serious," she mumbles as his lips begin closing in.

"I'm about to quit my job for the possibility of taking you out to dinner one night. I'd say it's more than serious."

Her reply gets muffled by his mouth as they re-ignite the one thing that she's been desperately trying to stamp out since before takeoff.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

_1 month later..._

Addison knits her hands together impatiently, glaring at their new best friend, Dr. Rosenbloom. At the advice of her short-time co-worker, Violet, the pair sought him out after they came to terms with the fact that they had more issues than they could privately handle and are currently suffering from what Addison likes to call being emotionally stunted and communicatively challenged. She didn't, however, realize that it would be like this.

Therapy leaves them exhausted, fueled with residual anger and more often than not sleeping on cold sides of the bed. Today's session will be no different. It's difficult to put into words for another party the things you don't even allow yourself to delve in out of fear.

"Addison?" Dr. Rosenbloom asks once again, both he and Derek staring her down.

"Yeah?" she replies, stalling, wanting the damn timer on his desk to chime loudly.

"I asked you a question."

"He did," Derek smirks as she shakes her head at him. His role hasn't been much easier to fill but he's devoted enough to put up with all of the bad. Besides today's session has pretty much been all on her side.

"I..." she looks down at her whitening knuckles. "I...because...I don't trust...myself. I guess." she stammers out unconvincingly.

"You think you are likely to repeat the same unwanted actions in your relationship with Derek?" Dr. Rosenbloom carefully phrases.

"I won't...cheat...I won't. I just...ugh!" she shouts and her hands fly into the air frustrated. She's not a cheater, except she is, and she doesn't know what triggers it and how to control it. None of these are things she'd like to admit right now.

"Sometimes, Addison, our fears can keep us from being in situations similar to where a previous indiscretion took place. We sort of...put up fence and keep ourselves out. So what we need to do is find the right key, and then you can enjoy the freedom of being secure in your relationship, you understand?"

As her mind chimes off about the stupid little speech her mouth replies, "Yes."

"Good." Dr. Rosenbloom smiles. "That's really good for today. We have some time today so if there's anything that has come up lately, we can discuss that."

"No sex," Derek blurts out, unable to stop himself.

"Derek!" Addison screeches, mortified by his statement.

"It's okay," Dr. Rosenbloom coaches, trying to keep them both calm, well aware of what happens when they get wound up and feel the need to start yelling at one another. No one could say that they are no longer passionate, on the upside. "Derek, this is something you two have discussed?"

"No," he mourns sadly, feeling his girlfriend's eyes blazing a whole through his skull. "I thought we were good...but then whenever I try and...engage her-"

"Stop," Addison orders from her chair.

"You should talk to her about it. Maybe she is waiting for a reason," Dr. Rosenbloom tells him, and then grins when the buzzer behind him sounds. "Well, I suppose that's it for us. I will see you two on Friday. Nice work."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"I can't believe you did that," Addison seethes as they enter the empty elevator. It's nine at night, their appointment carefully carved out of non-existent patient time and paid for heftily.

"I had no choice," Derek retorts, fingers finding the right button.

"You could talk to me first."

"Addie, forgive me, but you are never one to turn sex down so imagine my surprise when all I can get is a lengthy kiss. I don't know what's happening. Are you playing hard to get-"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Me? Ridiculous? Addison we have had sex more times than the world is comfortable knowing about. I've seen it all. What is there to be afraid of?"

Her eyes trail down to the shiny black pumps on her feet, wishing the machinery would pick up some speed. "Nothing."

"Ugh," Derek groans, his fists balling. "Something." He relaxes, grabs her hand encouragingly, and nods. "Tell me."

"Well, what if...it's not...what we thought...and then-"

"It's always amazing-"

"Not always-"

"And then we try harder. I want to please you-" he watches her crinkle her nose prudely and smiles. "It's going to be better than the first time."

"I'd certainly hope so," Addison chuckles suddenly, recounting their twisted experience. Bruises were not in short supply after that adventure.

"You know what I meant," he replies. He didn't think it was that bad, though in hindsight he was really distracted.

"Yes."

"Can we try then?"

"Are you asking permission?" she asks distastefully, not wanting all of the romance to leak out of it.

"I thought we were at a point where it was warranted. If not then you better be on guard Montgomery."

"Oh really?" she teases, feeling him turn into her.

"Yes, really," he manages to reply before lightly kissing her lips and dragging her out to the car. "I'm thinking takeout Chinese, late night news, and maybe a bath. Thoughts?"

"I like it," she responds pretending to mull it over, car keys beginning to jingle in her hands. She's had her moments where pulling Derek into a closet in the hospital to release some tension seemed like a good idea but in the end she's busy proving it to herself, that she can keep her knees closed when it's important. In some ways she didn't understand how it was affecting them, always a couple for being overly touchy and thoroughly disgusting to their friends in the earlier days. "I'm sorry...it was a stupid girl thing."

"I'm glad you told me," Derek replies and then climbs into the car, welcoming the change of atmosphere. "What was that nonsense about a fence?"

"I stopped listening," she tells him honestly and waits as the engine roars to life. "You think we should try another one?"

"I thought Violet said he was the best."

"He is," Addison says, steering them out onto the bust road. "But he's driving me crazy. I'm more angry when I leave than when I go in."

"Me too," Derek agrees. "He's helped though."

"Yes," she acknowledges. More so than the other man up in the greater Seattle area. "We need to keep going."

"I wish we didn't."

"Me too."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

****_3 months later..._

He's got her near tears and if you asked him he couldn't tell you what the hell started the fight, or what was continuing it. She's gone completely off the reservation but with a few petty jabs he's back in the game, making her want to crawl into a corner and sob. He unfortunately knows that look.

Addison paces back behind the couch furiously. A couple offhand remarks about how she won't let him take up a permanent position with Charlotte King has started a raging fire about how she's uncommitted and about how he's desperate to find some roots and give reason to the trip besides her. Not pretty.

"I don't see what the problem is! It would be the same damn thing Addison, except my name would be signed on a piece of paper hiding in a filing cabinet upstairs," Derek taunts, relaxing into the arm of the couch.

"It's too soon!"

"It's been four months," Derek retorts, "Four months and then about thirteen years. Not too soon. You don't want this. God, you could've spared me the time and just sent me back to Seattle-"

"You wouldn't leave my front door, how the hell do you think I would've managed that?"

"You don't want me here?" Derek asks daringly, rising from his spot, and facing her for the first time since it all began. There's cold Thai food on the table outside and discarded bottle of wine waiting to make their horrible work day a little better. It's looking less and less likely.

"I didn't say that!" Addison shouts back, hands finding her hips, feet wildly stamping into the ground.

"Well you sure implied it."

"I didn't."

"You don't want me to sign some stupid contract and yet I live in your house! I sleep in your bed! I drive your car to work! But then I suppose that's what this all about right? Keeping everything on your own terms so you can control it. So you don't have to feel as bad when it falls apart, just like you plan for."

"No!"

"Why don't I just find my own place? I'll buy a car, sign my contract and live my life how I want it to be."

"I like you here," she squeaks suddenly, tears trying desperately to get out onto her cheeks.

"Just not with any sense of finality attached to it."

"I'm scared!" she screams, giving up. "You won't like it here, or you'll resent me when you realize what it's like- and it won't be what you wanted. I don't want to ruin your career. I don't want you to up and leave again when things start to turn sour. You can't leave me again!" She's in love again, and his absence would be the last wall finally crumbling down.

"This is not career ruining," Derek tells her softly, their argument dying of its own volition, a rarity in their history. Someone usually winds up on a couch or out drinking at a bar by the time they are done. "It's a good move for my career honestly and I like where we are at-"

"When we aren't screaming at each other," Addison finishes. The fights haven't been few and far between recently and she's felt mounting pressure to be someone other than herself. To try and squeeze back into the wife she once was.

"When we are on the same page it's nothing short of wonderful. Now come here," he instructs, ordering her back to the couch and flipping on the television for background noise. When she slinks toward him, wrapping her limbs around his neck and burying her face, he finds the courage to say what he's been wanting to. "We can't keep fighting like this though, our children will be emotionally scarred for life."

Addison keeps quiet, her secret buried deep, and tenses as his fingers move over her back to calm her skin. It's not even a conversation to be having at this point.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"She won't talk to me," Derek tells Naomi, falling her through the halls of Addison's work. "And your face says you know something."

"I know nothing Shepherd, go away," Naomi snarks back, hand tightening around her cup. Indeed, she has spoken to Addison about recent said fight but she can't disclose this even if she wanted to, doctor-patient confidentiality, thank God.

"Know nothing about what?" Violet asks, joining the pair as they march toward the break room.

"Why Addison is being so weird," Naomi answers back.

Derek takes it further, "She freaked out when I mentioned kids. I thought that it may be too quick but we've been together so long and we always wanted kids and we aren't getting any younger-"

Violet places a hand over her incredibly swollen stomach, ready to blow at any moment and shrugs, "She can't have kids."

Naomi flips around incredulously hunting Violet with her eyes, wondering how she knows, and Derek shrinks back to a less confident version of himself. "Violet!"

"But- I, she..." Derek drifts off, having nowhere to go. Addison was always going to be the mother of his children. He was going to watch her grow and run out to get tacos at three in the morning. He was going to tie her shoes for her after demanding that she take a leave of absence and they were going to decorate together, the baby's name hanging from the wall. He had dreams, he had visions of this very scenario.

"I'm sorry Derek," Naomi offers and turns the corner without him.

"There are other ways," Violet tells him, stalling, making sure he is all right.

"Yeah, I know. I always...imagined-"

"Addison will be a great mother," Violet says assuredly, but her words are lost as he drifts back toward the elevator with news he never thought was possible, and surely not the answer he thought he'd be receiving today.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

_8 months later..._

"You do realize that this only proves how much you haven't improved in the last year right?" Naomi asks, Addison crouched down beside her, peeking through the blinds of Sam's house.

"Shush," Addison demands, and then perks up when a car enters her driveway. "See! Told you."

"You told me that Derek was meeting with a co-worker tonight, and that they would be at your house, because Derek told you. He also told you that you should be there to meet said co-worker...and yet here you are," Naomi nods and then tosses back the rest of her drink. Addison has always had a little bit of stalker in her but this is unnerving. Derek-and-Addison were never like this, and she hates to see them this dysfunctional. "Addie, he's not going to do anything." Privately, Naomi thinks, knowing Derek as she does, that the only reason for the Meredith thing was because of the Mark thing but she also believes she has never had the whole story so it's difficult to say.

"I know," Addison replies defensively. And rationally she does know that, even the girl side of her doesn't have any raised flags but this is what they've made and like an old ghost some doubts never leave. In the last few months she's come around on trusting him, dealing with him making her home his permanent residence, but some things are still hard. Her greatest fear is that they always will be.

"Well, let's go out then. Find Naomi a man." She pushes her friend's shoulder a little, causing Addison to lose her balance and topple to the floor loudly. "Nice."

"Nae," Addison whines instantly, feet scurrying back to their spot. "We can't."

"Why don't you just walk over there, introduce yourself, mark your territory and then come back undistracted?"

"Because," Addison answers slowly. "I don't need to do that."

"Except you do."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Derek had found that the days were easier down here in the sun. Also, though he didn't want to admit it, being away from Mark Sloan and everything that happened there made things better. He was mindful though not to forget about those things because they weren't in front of him. If he and Addison were to work then they would have to work in any city, under any circumstances. Thus arose the idea to revisit the place where they came from, a test of sorts. It helped that there was a case and it was Addison's turn for a vacation, not that she didn't protest about spending it in the rain.

All in all, it went well, he thought. His stomach did flip flops as Mark hugged Addison but it soon settled as she gave a quick jab about his nonexistent facial hair and why it was always there for a reason. It was reassuring to be there in the end. Having the support of Richard, Callie, and Miranda were things he severely underestimated. Even Meredith was not the undertaking he thought she would be, trying to stay the hell out of his path but cordial when greeted. She was dating, a little factor in aiding Derek in his choice, everyone had moved on from the scandal.

He squeezes Addison's dozing fingers a little tighter as they land roughly. "We're home."

She hums to herself before opening the tired eyelids that have been busy cursing Derek for booking the craziest flight home ever. No one wants to fly before the sun rises. What she doesn't know is why they need to be back by eight this morning.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Now, remember that you love me," Derek starts, instantly receiving a skeptical glance from the passenger's seat. "And that we've really worked through a tough year, and that I believe we are better now than we ever were-"

"What did you do?" Addison breathes out curtly, not in the mood for crazy antics, her head pounding as alcohol wades out of her system.

"It's a surprise," he grins anxiously. This could really go either way, but he's definitely pulling for the more favorable outcome.

"What I always wanted," Addison grunts, her eyes back on their way to closed as Derek enters the packed freeway.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Addie." Derek pokes her arm, then shakes her, trying to rouse her from the near forty-five minute nap.

"Go-way," she mumbles incoherently.

"It's surprise time...and you need to be...charming, and pretty, but most importantly awake."

Addison stirs slightly, wiping the edge of her mouth, and reaching for her exhausted eyes. Drinks last night at Joe's until three in the morning weren't her best idea. "I think...I need to vomit."

Derek stifles his laughter, having had the presence of mind to cut himself off yesterday. "Ok, we can do that but...first-"

"No...now," Addison moans and pulls herself out of the car, stumbling to the flower lined path and spilling the contents of her stomach.

Shaking his head Derek retorts something about her being classy and then helps her straighten her fallen sunglasses. "Better?"

"Kill me."

Derek sends up a small prayer that the woman arriving in about five minutes will be able to look over Addison's hangover and see what a wonderful woman she really is. He follows behind as she ambles indoors, instantly heading for the stairs. "Wait!"

"Derek, no," Addison replies and finds the handrail. "Not now."

"You can't go to bed. The surprise."

"It can wait until I sleep this off," she tells him just as the doorbell rings.

"See...that's the thing, it can't wait. It doesn't...wait." Derek bites his lip as he hears her head back down the stairs, complaining all the way. He reaches for the door handle and takes a deep breath. It's life changing, what he's done.

"Ms. Barker," he grins, watching her negotiate her way through, arms laden with bags. "Morning."

"Good Morning Dr. Shepherd," she greets, confidently looking at the surroundings she has become familiar with.

"Right in here," he instructs, leading her toward the dying Addison. "Addie, Honey?"

"Der-" she stops herself, and sits up straight in an instant, eyeing the stranger in her home. Her stomach rolls with disapproval but she ignores it in place of watching the woman comfortably take a seat across from her, feeling his hand become intertwined with her own as a stack of papers comes to rest on the coffee table.

"Addison, this is Ms. Barker, she's handling our case, and Jennifer this is Addison."

"Our case?" Addison squeaks, running over past lawsuits in her head. They've never been sued together.

"Yes, our case," Derek affirms and drops his hand toward the side of the couch. "But first, there are two other people I need to introduce."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"I can't believe you did this!" Addison yells at Derek, trying to get her tone above the baby's pressed to her shoulder, not liking the way her head rattles around her skull. Thoughts of never drinking again fleetingly pass her mind, followed by thoughts of hunting down a bottle of red wine.

"I thought it was a good gift," Derek coos to the little girl in his arms. "Best anniversary present yet in my book."

"You bought us kids!"

"Technically, they were given to me," he points out, having worked very closely with that patient for the last three months, guiding her through a very rocky time in her life, and never hesitating when she asked if they would maybe want her children, so she would know they were in good hands. Addison even met Victoria once, not that she remembers.

"What possessed you to even think this was a good time for us to be having children?" Addison demands, swaying back and forth on her feet naturally, rubbing tiny circles over the blue onesie as if he had been attached to her since day one.

"We always wanted kids," Derek argues quietly, not wanting to wake either two week old twin.

"We're divorced."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

_2 years later..._

It's easier to be thoughtful in the dim light of her living room, in the quietness of nothing but ocean waves crashing and tiny breathes snoring contently on her shoulder. Neither of those things have been common in her house for quite some time. It's been a whirlwind of a two years but she wouldn't trade them for anything. Reaching over to the end table carefully, she checks her cell, wanting to see a missed message from Derek, an explanation other than the ten second conversation they had much earlier.

She recognizes the urges to call him every hour, to creep around the hospital looking for something suspect, to check-in when it's not necessary but the desires are never cashed in because at the end of every day what's more hurtful than thinking Derek might be cheating with some blonde who doesn't smell like baby shampoo and laundry detergent, is letting him know that she still thinks he would. So she takes in the night, feverish child fastened to her body relentlessly, and waits.

Sometimes he wonders if she's tired of it. He's found that even now, some things are too difficult to bring up. Certain issues never change in their relationship and while the communication has vastly improved, they have continued to believe in blissful ignorance. So he can only hope against hopes that the children are enough to keep her busy, and that he keeps her happy, lest he come home and find Sam on top of her this time, and yes, there are days where he ponders it happening. Tonight she's on the couch though, Oliver strung over her shoulder, his train pajamas bunched around the knee. "Evening," he says softly, dropping his briefcase and toeing out of his shoes. "How's our little man?"

"He coped by screaming all day at Bizzy and Archer, not that I disapprove, and then sleeping in twenty minute intervals, refusing to be set down. How was your day?"

"Better than that. I can take him," Derek offers, his hands out. When they try to trade, Oliver awakens and screeches for his mother. Derek gives up and drops down next to them, pushing back the chocolaty hair on his son's hot head. "How's Nora?"

"She wouldn't eat dinner or her birthday cake, passed out on Archer at six, which he really loved, before proceeding to throw up all over the new rug just before Bizzy came storming in, shouting about how cleaning lady doesn't know how to do her job. Now she's asleep again."

"Rough one," Derek acknowledges.

"I've had better," she smiles sleepily, already feeling a touch of whatever their kids have managed to pick up.

He feels her cheek land on his shoulder and then squishes back against the cushions, settling in to watch the late night news. He leaves the volume low, staring at the surprisingly always inaccurate weatherman, grinning at his sleeping duo minutes later. Sometimes he wonders how he could ever question her; how she can be the same person she was three years ago. The woman who he followed on dates and gave him heart palpitations every time an attractive man walked nearby. The person who broke his heart and then put it back together by yanking him inside of the place he now calls home.

None of the historical pieces ever seem to fit quite right; the picture is better when he skips over five years of their life. The five years that can still make him question sitting on this very couch right now.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

When Addison wakes up it's dark. Pitch black and she's no longer sitting. After a brief state of panic she feels Derek reach across the expanse of children littered between them and stroke her arm.

"Sleep," he tells her.

She peals her tongue off the roof of her mouth, shivering at the lack of blankets covering their bodies. "I think...I'm sick."

"I figured that," Derek replies sleepily, "when I managed to get you all the way up here without you waking up."

"Thanks," she mumbles, rolling carefully on her side, wishing to not get the stomach based illness Nora seems to be toting around. Then again her daughter always seems to have tummy issues when she is stressed, so it could be nothing.

"Anytime," Derek says and instinctively turns to face her. He can tell she's grinning, even though he can't see her.

"Maybe we can tell Bizzy it's the plague and she'll leave early," Addison jokes deliriously.

"Only if she takes Archer with her," Derek complies.

"I think," Addison yawns slowly, "we should just be thankful for the amazing piano recital that forced your entire family to go back early."

"It is the small things in life," he agrees, following her yawn, and feeling Oliver grab at his shirt for comfort before they both drift off again.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"This is cruel," Addison moans, falling into a heap next to Derek on their bed after getting both cranky, recovering children down for a nap the following day. The hot afternoon air swirls around them, coating their bodies with salty humidity. "The universe hates us."

Derek nods slowly, his head congested, stomach churning as she sinks down in his arms. "Where did they catch this?"

"Their our children Derek, I'm sure they manifested this in their own bodies to torture us with."

He laughs unwillingly at her bitterness and scoots a little closer, his skin slick with cool sweat. "They're lucky we love them," he answers with a grin.

"Yeah," Addison states reflectively. She never knew this kind of depth could exist, how her heart could be so encompassing.

Derek watches her slip off, as she does from time to time, going who knows where. He clears his burning throat to catch her attention. "So, if this wretched disease doesn't kill us first, what do you say we find some babysitters and take Saturday off?"

"Really?" Addison asks, her voice gathering at the end hopefully. She's been beating herself through the last few months with no end in sight.

"I think we deserve it, plus it's lucky number fifteen this year."

"Crystal," Addison breathes out stuffily, curling around a pillow and tracing a light pattern over his arm.

"Want a paperweight?" Derek smirks instantly. He hates their tradition of following tradition. He also hates that she is the best gift giver in the history of present exchanging.

"No," she mumbles, legs beginning to twist into the sheets as the warm sun pours over her body, enveloping her in a bath of comfort and drowsiness.

He watches her rest peacefully, waits until she is calm next to him. "Happy Anniversary Addie."

She freezes when she hears him, letting the words roll through her mind. She doesn't answer or reply, simply relishes the sound of his broken voice, the words hanging limply above them.

She still fears, every year, that it's the last time. It doesn't negate her happiness in the moment, however, and for that she is grateful. That she can worry and still be joyous; contemplative but secure for that second. It's an ongoing battle, day in and day out. In the end though, the thing that sends her squirming toward the warm spot Derek leaves as he dashes for the bathroom presumably to blow his nose, is knowing that while it hurts to be here, it hurts worse without him.

It always has, it always will.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**


End file.
